


Master, you need to reevaluate your priorities!

by shacklesburst



Series: A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away everybody wants to get into Homura's robes [1]
Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Out of Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28669965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shacklesburst/pseuds/shacklesburst
Summary: Meet maverick Jedi Master Homura Akemi and her straight-laced Padawan Tatsuya Kaname, out to save the galaxy (or at least a very, very small part of it), mostly from Homura herself. Although this time, they're only escorting home Alderaanian Senator Mami Tomoe. So what could possibly go wrong?There's also some HomuMado fluff at the end!
Relationships: Akemi Homura/Kaname Madoka
Series: A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away everybody wants to get into Homura's robes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112453
Comments: 18
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I chose to go with the western name order for this one. Not beta'd as I wanted to get this out quickly.

“But I really really don’t wanna!”

Tatsuya wasn’t quite sure what to do, so he did what he had done with increasing frequency the longer he’d been the venerated Master Akemi’s padawan. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“And I’m sure Master Kaname” – it still felt really weird calling his own sister that – “would love it if we had gone with her instead, but the council did make a make a very good argument just now, don’t you think, Master?”

“The council wouldn’t know what’s good for the Republic or this Order if it jumped around in their chambers all day long. I long for the days when Grandmaster Sunrider was leading them.”

“That’s not something you should just _say_ in the corridor leading to that very chamber!”

“Maybe if you were to take the Trials …”

“Master, I’m 17!”

“So? I became a knight at 14, as did your sister.”

“Those were different times! Also, you were both prodigies of the highest calibers.”

“A bit over a decade ago maybe. This Order hasn’t changed much in the last 4000 years, what’s a decade or two to it? Also, that’s exactly what I’m saying! Me, dashing and devious as they come, and Madoka, powerful and strong and cute as button … we made the perfect strike team for literally _any_ situation and we should’ve just gone on like that forever.”

 _Master, one of those qualities is not like the other two. And should a Jedi Master really call herself devious?_ There was probably a rule against it, or at the very least a story of how devious thoughts might lead to the Dark Side. His master was not finished, though.

“Instead, we’re playing guards for a senator traveling from Coruscant to Alderaan. Alderaan! An old Core World on the Commenor Run! What does Tomoe think is gonna happen? Pirates? An incursion by forces from the Unknown Regions? In the Core?! Honestly …”

Out loud, he said: “These are times of peace, but the assassinations of Mimas Yoon and Lelin-Dor are still fresh on everybody’s mind. Weren’t those carried out while they were traveling through the Core as well?”

Master Homura momentarily seemed to be taken aback, as if she didn’t know this story much better than Tatsuya did. With a long groan, she turned around, looking up at him with a resigned expression.

“Uuugh, we’re going, we’re going alright. I’m just whinging. You know how I am.”

As far as Tatsuya was concerned, his Master was likely the most un-Jedi-like Master in the entire order right now. Had she been born just a few years earlier, she would’ve gone with the Revanchists, he was a hundred percent certain of that. He had to suppress a cough at that thought.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, Master. Lead the way.”


	2. Chapter 2

Bay 785-B at the administrative space port of the parliamentary district in Coruscant housed a very new, very slick and far too large vehicle to bring one measly senator, even if it was the senator of a rich Core World like Alderaan, to and from their home system. Naturally, Tatsuya did not address the issues he might’ve had with that while following Master Akemi through the hangar doors.

Just as naturally, his Master did not have any such reservations.

“E chu ta, look at the _size_ of that thing! I wonder what she’s compensating for? That’s some A-cup angst if I’ve ever seen any-”

“Master Jedi! So glad you could make it!”

Tatsuya winced. Of course this would happen. There was actually no way this wasn’t going to happen. Far too often events that played out in the vicinity of his Master had a tendency to follow the trashiest holo-drama plot lines. He wasn’t completely sure, but he had considered that she actively helped stuff like this along. Somehow. How, he had no idea. All he could say was that _How does the Force work 101_ did not cover the topic of how to make life for yourself as difficult as possible. _That’s not how the Force works_ , he could hear his imaginary crib master say.

_Clearly, you still have much to learn_ , came the immediate rebuttal over their training bond. Which did _not_ enable either of them to actually read each other’s thoughts like that. But Master Akemi cared about the rules of (meta-)physics about as much as about the rules of propriety.

Now _Tatsuya_ hadn’t been actively stretching his senses and as such hadn’t felt the group approach, but surely Master would not be surprised by a bunch of civilians! She simply _had to_ have planned for it.

It was what she _always_ did. Somehow manage to turn a normal situation around in a way that would make sure that she’d not get on with any of the people involved, after seemingly having decided from the get-go to destroy any semblance of proper demeanor. She sometimes claimed it made the ever repeating and as such boring monotone of their lives more bearable or something.

Anyways, if Tatsuya hadn’t thought _Like you’re one to talk, Master!_ at the A-cup angst comment already, he surely would’ve started once the senator and probably one of her bodyguards, a blue-haired and well-armed human, walked out behind a pile of crates, conveniently located to inhibit their field of view from the hangar entrance _just_ right. The senator was unmistakable, clad in some of the finest robes he could imagine, and definitely on the, err, _bustier_ side of the Perlemian.

“Senator Tomoe! I was _just_ admiring your gorgeous spacecraft.”

She said this with a mischievous spark in her eyes that confirmed all of Tatsuya’s worst fears.

_Master, please stop making enemies of the most powerful politicians in the galaxy_. Tatsuya hoped against all hope the sentiment he sent over their training bond might still change something in how this whole ordeal was going to play out.

_By now you should know that if you’re not making powerful politicians your enemy, you’re doing your job wrong, my very young padawan!_

Tatsuya managed to hide his wince this time.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she? Voluptuous in the all the right places. Sadly, not everything in our galaxy can be like that.”

The senator even managed a convincing pout, looking Master all over, before dropping the act and replacing it with another act.

“But where are my manners … I am Mami Tomoe, junior senator of Alderaan, and this is Sayaka Miki, my chief of security.”

The mentioned officer nodded grimly at both Jedi. Ex-military and, if Tatsuya was guessing her age correctly, probably part of at least the final campaigns against the Revanchists or, well, Sith, at that point. If she had dropped out of the Republic military after that and gone on to work for SenSec right afterwards and was already chief of security for a senator, she was probably one of those that took their job _very_ seriously. He immediately resigned himself to being messenger boy between Master and her. Both accustomed to calling the shots themselves, they would surely _not_ get along like, at all, even without any help from holo-drama plot lines.

“Jedi Homura Akemi and padawan Tatsuya Kaname. We are in your service for the duration of this mission.”

They both bowed in unison.

“Master Akemi? The Recoverer of Tomo-Reth?”

Finally, finally, it was Master’s time to wince at the hilarious nickname the media had dubbed her a year ago after a disastrous mission had gone so wrong it somehow managed to wrap back around to going okay. Ish.

“That _is_ a moniker I have been described with, but I assure you, my name will suffice for the remainder of this trip.”

“Marvelous, simply marvelous. Master Akemi, you _must_ do me the favor and tell me of your adventures over tea and cake once we’re in hyperspace!”

It surely seemed as if the senator was as much of a sadist as Master. Given that Master’s teachings about the political system of the Republic had had at least _some_ effect at all on him, he presumed it was only natural. Or was it actually masochism on both sides?

“But before we take off, you will probably wish to confer with Sayaka about security, yes? You must know she and her detail have my _full_ confidence. Petitioning the Jedi for an escort on this trip in addition to that was not a step I took lightly. As the Senate has finished its tasks for this legislative year and is currently not in session, I’m of course going back with my full staff and entourage today. They, more than me, _must_ be protected in times like these. Still, I am certain that with an accomplished master such as you on board, and your student as well, we will reach my home system in just a short while. I would not hold you longer than I must.”

Somehow, Tatsuya got the impression that the senator really _was_ thinking mostly of her staff right then. Had she received a tip, after all? Some political intrigue that would play out on this trip? What exactly was she insinuating by “times like these”?

Master was quicker on the uptake, once more.

“As I’m confident your petition was only granted out of an abundance of caution, we’ll surely be back quickly and as such it won’t interfere with our regularly scheduled missions. You have our word we’ll do everything in our power to protect you and your staff.”

_And_ much quicker to shift away from seriousness once more, of course.

“It surely will provide a valuable lesson to young Tatsuya to go over procedures with Chief Miki here. I, uh, am going to familiarize with the terrain, in the meantime.”

Nodding once, the senator shifted gears equally well, laughing playfully.

“But don’t forget to come by my private quarters as soon as you can!”

“Of course, Senator, as soon as nothing else requires my undivided attention.”

“Obviously, my dear Master Jedi, obviously.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I am sure you don’t need my input on this. Your security measures are far more sophisticated than anything I could come up with on short notice.”

Tatsuya was sweating bullets. They’d gotten clearance for their first jump into hyperspace 10 minutes ago and were already dutifully chugging along across the Perlemian, likely having already passed the half-way mark to Alsakan. And obviously, just as he had predicted, Master had sent him along to hammer out their exact arrangement with Chief Miki. Given that Master would just jump at any danger if it presented itself either way (and with that almost certainly break any arrangement they could arrive at), he didn’t understand why they had to go through the motions.

“Why did you choose to travel alongside the senator on her own ship? Wouldn’t an escort of starfighters have been more versatile?”

Furthermore, so far, Chief Miki had not been impressed with any of the plans Tatsuya had suggested.

“Ah, you see, although Jedi starfighters have helped the Republic Navy in the past, it is not our strongest point, especially if the most likely attack vector are pirates boarding the escorted vessel. We’ll be far more useful guarding the person of the senator directly.”

“Hrmph.”

Neither was she entirely convinced by their approach in general, it seemed.

“Alright, if that’s the case, we should go over the plans again with a special view on the choke points along the way that might prevent the senator from reaching her safe-room.”

“Of course, Chief Miki.”

This was going to be a _long_ 12 hour trip.

* * *

Homura was sitting in a lavishly (and lovingly, she wouldn’t judge _too_ harshly) decorated room, obviously the senator’s personal quarters, in front of a strange, low, triangular glass table. Tomoe was _good_. Homura had managed to stay hidden on the large ship for only a few minutes before the senator had managed to set up a diversion in the mess hall and had more than one aide frantically searching the ship for “Master Akemi, who is urgently needed in the Senator’s private quarters”. She’d been out-maneuvered – unless she employed unnecessary force which, of course, she would _never_ do (probably) – and was subsequently whisked away to here.

The senator had offered her a piece of – apparently home-baked? who did that?! – cake along with tea and hadn’t taken no for an answer there either.

Now, Homura could play the game as well as anybody, but very rarely was she thrown into a situation like this. She rather tended to get on everybody’s nerves quickly enough that nobody would invite her to their home, especially not in a private setting like this. The only person she regularly took meals with was Madoka. Both Tatsuya and Momo preferred one of the lower kitchen halls in the Temple and hanging out with their friends instead of taking dinner with their masters.

Damn, even thinking of Madoka made her heart ache … the way she always managed to get a grain of rice or a speck of black pepper stuck to her nose during meals … the way the light in their favorite meditation chamber played with her shockingly pink hair. It was certainly a weird natural hair color for a human, but her Madoka made it work. Then again, Madoka was able to make every hair color work. Once, for some undercover work, she’d dyed her hair the same midnight black of Homura’s and it made her look _really_ hot.

Homura really should’ve argued some more with the Council. So it might be the 622nd time that she was given a mission without Madoka. So what? She’d argue the 623rd time just the same. _Obviously_. However, before she could sink into day dreams entirely, the senator’s question brought her back to reality. _Meh_.

“So, tell me about yourself.”

“What … do you mean, Senator?”

The senator was leaning across the table, batting her eyelashes at Homura. _Oh, Force no!_

“You can call me by my given name, if you like, Master Jedi. I could maybe even call _you_ Master Homura?”

The senator was laughing at her own joke before licking her lips, not really giving Homura any time to come up with an answer before continuing.

“I just meant what it is like, you know … as a Jedi. Apparently I also had some latent talent with the Force, but my parents refused to let the Temple train me as one. And I can’t say their decision was the wrong one, given what I’ve accomplished thus far, don’t you think, Master Homura?”

“Ha-Haha, errr, yeah, is that so? I really think we should keep this professional though, Senator.”

_Oh, I am so not doing this. Why is this always happening to me?_ Why couldn’t some blue twi-lek on a frontier world suddenly develop the hots for Tatsuya for once? Was it _her_ hair? Maybe she should cut it short? But that’d surely make Madoka sad. Mhmph, new plan needed.

Tomoe leaned back, switching her entire demeanor again. That’s what it meant to be a politician, probably? Was playing with Homura supposed to scratch an actual itch for her or did she just enjoy the game as is?

“Still a Jedi at heart, huh? And you were so fun outside-”

Before Homura could disabuse the senator of the notion that the order wouldn’t have kicked her out already if not for Madoka’s weekly practice in extolling her virtues before the council – and who could say no to _that_ angelic smile? – a low rumble and then a groan went through the whole ship. Now, the _rumble_ was expected. They obviously had to make multiple jumps to get to Alderaan and all ships would noticeably realign at some of the major hop points along the way.

And yes, it was the classic strategy of space pirates to wait at these junctions for prey. In uncontrolled space, for sure. In the Outer Rim and even in the Mid Rim a times. But not in the Core! _Never_ in the Core! Not for the past millennium, bar some very special circumstances. That exactly this, the senator’s fear she’d told them about not even a standard hour ago, would materialize immediately like this didn’t make sense!

The groan and subsequent plunge into darkness however was the tell-tale sign of-

“EMP charge. Senator, to your safe-room. Tatsuya will protect the perimeter, I’ll deal with any intruders. Go!”

Homura had instinctively drawn her lightsaber just before the charge hit. It flickered, but held steady after the charge dissipated. Thus, the room was temporarily illuminated only by the violet gleam of her weapon. Lightsabers were The Shit. Tomoe stared at her with big eyes.

“I said go! Right behind you, button on the cabinet. GO!”

Being yelled at to _Go!_ for the third time seemed to do the trick, bringing Tomoe out of her stupor and scrambling towards the aforementioned safe room.

Instead of going in and just closing the door, she peeked out again, however: “Will we be okay? Will you be okay?”

Homura did _not_ have time for this.

“Yes. Now close. The. Door.”

She did, the same moment the red emergency lighting in the rest of the ship finally turned on. Homura’s comm unit was probably fried as well. (Not everything a jedi owned – or rather, was provided with – could be as cool and hardy as a lightsaber, after all.)

_Status, Padawan,_ she sent through the bond instead.

_Hit by an EMP charge. Main systems, down. Hyperdrive, down. Sensors, down. Secondary short-range comms are picking up a transmission … I cannot believe that I have to tell you this while on the Perlemian, Master, but … they said:_ prepare for boarding _._

_Well, I’ll be …_ , Homura thought. The strange senator had actually been right? Maybe she really _was_ somewhat Force sensitive. In adults without training, it tended to mostly present itself as weird bad feelings, after all. But so far in advance, and this specific? Maybe a vision? She did not have time to search for answers now. Instead, she drew in the Force around her, around the whole ship to get an inkling as to where … there!

_They’re gonna board from the rear. Let them. Cooperate. I’ll be there and get some answers. You will guard the safe-room in the senator’s quarters. Do you know where it’s located?_

_Yes, Master. Chief Miki briefed me … at length. She will not be dissuaded from also providing protection to the senator herself._

Of course not. When had Senate security ever made things easy.

_Do what you must. And may the Force be with you._

_And with you, Master._

With a last check that the safe-room door was tightly closed, Homura began sprinting towards the stern airlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tatsuya and momo at the lower mess hall: so, who had "senator tries to get into master akemi's robes right from the beginning, nobody else because they got interrupted by space pirates in the core"?
> 
> random padawan 1: shit, I thought it'd be "security chief after an emotional heart-to-heart while the rest of the ship sleeps, with the captain joining in shortly afterwards"
> 
> random padawan 2: don't beat yourself up, that's a winner right there and there's always next time


	4. Chapter 4

P7’s full designation was HK-50-P7. Consequently, P7 could tell people with pride that they were one of a select few remaining HK-50 Hunter-Killer assassination and sabotage droids, designed after principles going back to the vaunted HK-01, but taking most of their cues from the HK-47 and HK-48 mainline models. As such, it was indeed rare to find a full squadron (usually numbering five units) at the same time anywhere in the galaxy. Their current employer really had not have spared any expenses getting together such a band of near identical merry misfits.

After the Second Sith War, most surviving HK-50 units had continued to bring about chaos and bloodshed wherever they found themselves, often needing entire teams of special forces to be brought down. Consequently, their incidence had dropped rather rapidly in Republic controlled space where military presence could be deployed to handle the threat quickly enough, but a lot still thrived on the Outer Rim.

After more than 10 years without a memory wipe, most beings in the universe would ascribe P7 being at the cusp of conscious awakening (if they weren’t trained from birth to dismiss droids as nothing but machines from the get-go, which almost all of the meatbags were). Their brethren weren’t quite as far along on that trajectory and still bound much more strongly by their original programming. So, to maximize their potential fatalities, they had designated P7 their temporary leader for this mission.

Of course, even with a consciousness, HK-series droids weren’t exactly known for becoming softer in their old age. Just more sadistic.

As for their current mission, sending a full squadron seemed like absolute overkill. The security force of a Republican senator usually consisted of 10 to 15 individuals. With P7’s highly blaster-resistant hull and quick reflexes, they were equipped to deal with such a force on their own. Their employer had insisted on a full squad, however, for reasons unknown. Maybe to absolutely guarantee success? If there was simply no margin for error, overkill was usually the way to go, after all. P7 couldn’t argue with that logic. They employed a similar one in battle all the time. But for them personally right now, this only meant fewer kills and less fun. The things one did to run another standard time unit.

As planned, the meatbags that had brought them here didn’t know about their true mission and could easily be dealt with after everything was over. So far, they’d proven quite useful, getting them in position with their prey virtually on a silver platter while the HK units were preserving their power cells. None of the strike team was a particularly good pilot and HK-50 units were known for their infighting tendencies. Much better to relieve stress during the actual mission than jeopardize the objective on the way there. They wouldn’t live much longer after the rest of the meatbags were dealt with.

P7 nodded at their team as the airlock opened with the whooshing sound of air pressure equalizing. Finally, the slaughter would begin and P7 was sure they’d be able to draw out the deaths for a few of the meatbags for a while and have some more fun that way.

Really, the only thing that could even come close to being a danger to the team _and_ small enough to fit on a ship of this size _might_ be a Jedi. Given that there were fewer than five thousand of those in the whole galaxy (and that’s counting the learners as well as the fully realized warrior monks), it was really unlikely to ever meet one. There were many, many more senators than Jedi. As much as P7 wanted to come across and kill a Jedi one day, today wouldn’t be the day. The odds of randomly meeting a fully realized Jedi on a ship such as this were truly laughable, probably close to-

The tell-tale buzz of a lightsaber activating interrupted P7’s thoughts and reflexes took over. Protocol did dictate they were to immediately deploy the explosives within their hull if they came across an insurmountable obstacle, their suicide switch, hopefully enough to vaporize enough of the ship everything and everyone inside would die either way, even if P7 themselves wouldn’t be there to savor it.

P7 held back. The others must have done the same? The came the alarm that the switch was malfunctioning either way. That must be the Jedi magic P7 had heard about.

So far, not even a tenth of a second had gone by after the squad had realized the danger. P7 and their companions had already raised their blasters and started firing in the hopes of catching their adversary unawares.

The cloaked figure seemed even faster than the droids, however. At one moment it was visible in the opening, the next it was right within their midst. Y4’s blaster had been cut in half before they had a chance to realign their sight, with their body turning into a pile of smoking scrap metal just as quickly.

Y8 and U3 met the same fate shortly thereafter. P7 was left with just N2 by their side.

Half a second had passed. This was not how this was supposed to go.

P7’s servos groaned under the burden of moving their body parts so quickly. It’d been a long time since they had to push themselves like this. Their blaster stayed on the Jedi, firing in fully automatic mode, yet never hitting anything of consequence, until suddenly the blaster stopped while P7 stared at what was left of their arms. The world fell away in two different directions for a moment.

Their central core wrote one last internal log entry before it died down.

_Expletive: Fucking magic meatb⌷⌷⌷⌷_

* * *

Having finished the droids quickly, Homura slowly advanced into the pirate ship. She’d dismantled her fair share of HK-type units during the cleanup operations after the war as a padawan, pushing left over forces far out into the rim. Seeing the otherwise little known droid type here and now did not portend well for this trip (as if that hadn’t been clear enough already).

However, she could not let down her defenses now. Homura could clearly feel two actual lifeforms close to her position. As an Ataru user, she wasn’t really made for combat in such close quarters. Of course, a few droids, even sophisticated ones like the assassination droids that would otherwise have been able to overcome Miki’s forces easily, still weren’t anything a Jedi master of her pedigree couldn’t deal with. But proceeding with caution _did_ help staying alive. And she couldn’t know what other surprises were lurking on this vessel.

Also, she wanted answers and quickly dismembering living beings would not provide her any, in addition to the moral implications it had. (Homura tried not to think too hard about the moral implications of destroying those droids. If Madoka were here, she would scold her for just destroying droids like she had. Then again, Madoka was the only being in the galaxy that could go head to head with an HK-50 and disarm it without destroying it. Probably without even drawing her lightsaber to boot. _Some_ people did have to get through life without having more power than god. At least the current Chosen One was cute as hell.)

“This is Jedi Master Homura Akemi of the Galactic Republic on an escort mission. Your droids have been destroyed. Give up now and nobody else needs to get hurt.”

Homura could make out some faint whispering. A good thing, surely. They’d be prepared to negotiate, then. Negotiate their arrests, most likely, but negotiate nonetheless. No more lives wasted.

“A J-Jedi..?” – “Oh frisk, I know that voic-” – “Huuh?!”

Then, louder: “Okay! Don’t shoot!”

Wait. Homura recognized that voice! And sure enough, the somewhat familiar red head that soon popped out from a corner at the end of the hallway was all she needed to make her confusion complete. She obviously did not lower her saber, though.

“Sakura?”

Kyouko Sakura. Smuggler, thief, occasional bandit. Pirate, now? Assassin, even? And who else was there? Homura wasn’t sure if she’d ever heard Kyouko censor herself before. Frisk? Really?

Kyouko did point her blaster vaguely in Homura’s direction, but didn’t seem to be directly threatening her.

“Akemi … hahaha, long time no see. What brings you out here? How’s Madoka?”

The other one hadn’t shown themselves yet. Homura was reasonably sure the aura of green energy still hidden behind the corner was a child, though. Maybe a teenager? No matter, she would get to the bottom of this, for Sakura’s sake as much as her own, but she wouldn’t do something so dumb as to actually _trust_ her and any of the people the former self-proclaimed “lone wolf” apparently chose to hang out with nowadays.

“Sakura, drop your blaster and slide it over here. Your companion, too.”

“Now, see here, Akemi-”

“I will not repeat myself.”

Homura could see the gears in her head turning. Could take a while, sometimes, with that one.

“Ugh, have it your way. Yuma, do what she says.”

A girl a couple years younger than Tatsuya, if Homura guessed correctly, stepped out into the hallway, blaster in hand. Unlike Kyouko’s, it wasn’t pointed at Homura, though, so points for that.

Their two blasters were slowly slid across the floor. Homura looked at Kyouko and her companion expectantly. Kyouko’s innocent smile lasted only a moment.

“Ugh, fiiiine.”

Another three blasters, two vibroblades and an assortment of detonators of various kinds were slid over.

Homura lowered her saber and turned it off. It probably still wasn’t everything, but if worst came to worst, she would be able to handle the rest. And Homura didn’t think Kyouko would actually try anything. The other one – Yuma? – clearly seemed to take her cues from Kyouko. Homura let out a long sigh.

Homura pointed at the pile of scrap metal behind her: “Care to tell me what this was all about?”

_Padawan, the situation has been handled. Come down here with Miki once you’ve checked on the senator._

Kyouko had donned her most innocent smile yet. (It wasn’t actually very innocent.)

“What? Oh, these droids? Special delivery.”

“I’m not in the mood for your games today.”

“Oh, I remember how you always liked setting the mood …”

Now the younger one had to chime in: “Wait, don’t tell me _that’s_ the Jedi you always boast about having laid-”

“How many _Jedi_ do you think I’m on speaking terms with? Of course that’s-”

Homura’s eye twitched.

“You’ve committed an act of piracy within the jurisdiction of the Galactic Republic, against the official diplomatic vessel of a Republican Senator, boarding it with the intent to kill everybody on that vessel, including assassinating the senator. Do you have _any_ idea how much shit you’re in right now?”

“What? That’s not at all- Now see here, Akemi. Those droids you, err, _thankfully_ like, decimated just now, they-they actually took us hostage! Isn’t that right, Yuma?”

Lying had never been a strong suit of hers, but it seemed like Kyouko believed what she was telling at least in general. Maybe not the hostage part, but had she really not known those were assassination droids?!

“I was so very scared. They were evil robots. They made me do it”, Yuma said dryly. Homura wasn’t quite sure if she a) really was that bad at acting, b) chose to not play along out of fear for her own hide, or c) was a moody teenager and obviously wouldn’t provide anybody with a non-sarcastic answer, ever.

Homura, being an expert in option C herself, tended to think it was the latter.

Either oblivious or entirely uncaring, Kyouko went on spinning her tale. Homura could hear foot steps behind her, feeling the familiar presence of her padawan, the cool blue aura of Miki the security chief, and a warmer, subtly yellow presence … why did they bring the senator? Shouldn’t her doctor look her over or something??

Tatsuya had obviously sensed her confusion.

_She didn’t take no for an answer, Master._

Yeah, she’d already noticed that. A common character trait for politicians. With another sigh, Homura continued her questioning. Maybe it’d lead somewhere in the end?

“Why didn’t the droids dispose of you immediately then?”

“Ain’t nobody flying this baby like myself!”

“With the amount of times you crash landed us these past few years I certainly hope not.”

Homura had flown with Kyouko before. She got Yuma’s sentiment.

“Quiet! Should’ve left you with Oriko and the _real_ pirates!”

“Butcha didn’t!”

A new voice joined their quick staccato of traded insults: “Ladies!”

Seemed like Miki had decided to enter the fray?

“I’m placing you under arrest for piracy on a major trade route and attempted assassination of a Republican Senator. We’re on the way to Alderaan anyways. We’ll try you _there_. After you tried to kill their own senator. Kamijou, cuff them.”

One of Miki’s henchmen that had arrived in between the arguing and began walking toward the pair of would-be pirates. Kyouko apparently had other ideas.

“Now listen here you blue wench! Who died and made you king to make those kinds of declarations? Seems more like _you’re_ boarding _my_ ship right now.”

“You’re docked to an Alderaanian diplomatic vessel out in the Black! Obviously Alderaanian law will trump whatever you’re flying under!” Miki almost screamed back. Homura just loved it when interrogations devolved away entirely from the actual point of the matter. Not.

Also, damn Core Worlders and their superiority complexes.

Meanwhile, even though Kyouko and Yuma were unarmed, as far as he’d be able to tell, Kamijou seemingly didn’t want to get involved further in this cat fight – what did he think? just go with the winning side later? if that was the quality of the rest of Tomoe’s forces, Homura understood her insistence on a Jedi escort even more – and sunk back behind Homura’s back.

“Oy! Akemi! Tell them we’re the good guys!”

“How do you even _know_ these people, Master Jedi?”

_Oh, it’s back to Master Jedi now, is it?_ The senator looked a bit shaken still, but she was also holding a- was that a blaster rifle?! How did Homura always manage to get herself into these situations?

“The details are an internal Jedi matter and aren’t relevant to-”

“When Akemi was just an ickle padawan, I saved her from being tortured and killed by an angry mob”, Kyouko helpfully supplied, even standing a little prouder as if her recollection of the events had anything to do with the actual truth.

“That is factually incorrect _and_ I would’ve escaped on my own just fine”, Homura said under her breath.

“So you’re indebted to her?” The Senator had lowered her rifle and seemed to be deciding on her further course of action.

Homura shook her head. (“Yes!” Kyouko said smugly.)

“Of course not. However, given the nature of a Jedi’s work, it is sometimes unavoidable to be in contact with … people operating in the grey areas of the law. We’ve worked together in various capacities in the past. Miss Sakura here has likely engaged in illegal activity before, but as far as we’re aware hasn’t taken violent action against beings outside of the occasional self-defensive actions. Until now.”

Tomoe sighed.

“Who paid you to make those droids board my ship?”

Kyouko and Yuma exchanged glances. Had they really not gotten the memo about “deep shit” until now?

“Senator V’riil of Kuat.”

Homura was furious: “What?! How do you even know that? And why didn’t you tell me immediately?”

Yuma smiled thinly.

“Psh, his OpSec was shit. He literally hired us himself in disguise. Like, some kind of facial glamor field. Didn’t even take a minute to short it out for a moment and use facial recog. Paid us in Republican credits and Kuati denarii, even. And _you_ only asked what this was about. And it really just was a special delivery, as far as we’re concerned.”

The senator had secured her rifle to her back, sat down on the floor and took her face in her hands for a moment. Great. Homura would’ve loved to join her, but she obviously couldn’t while still preserving face.

“V’riil is … not exactly the brightest of my colleagues. But that he’d go so far as to try to kill me for opposing his crap-shoot plans to seriously expand Kuati influence like no other world in the Core …”

Kyouko had blanched the more the conversation had gone on. Had she _finally_ realized?

“Wait, so you’re telling me this whole ‘I’m placing you under arrest for attempted assassination’ spiel was serious? Geez, we didn’t try to assassinate anybody. Those droids were just supposed to cause a bit of havoc and intimidate some bigshot. Or so we were told.”

Homura looked at Kyouko disbelievingly: “And you _believed_ that?! You took a job that smelled like that from a parsec away and didn’t ask questions about the cargo itself?? Those were _HK-50 assassination droids_! It’ll be hard to decipher one of their cores, if we can find one that wasn’t damaged too badly, but I guarantee you, five droids of this type would’ve been enough to kill the entire crew of the Senator’s vessel and, of course, Senator Tomoe as well. And there’s _no_ doubt that that was their goal! Those are expensive!”

She’d calmed down a little and said the next part in her usual cold and serious voice instead: “I don’t think it was part of the plan for you two to survive this either.”

“Fu-Frisk! See, Yuma, _this_ is why I don’t work with droids!”

Those two really were bright enough to find out the hidden identity of an employer on the black market – though going by their explanations, it hadn’t been particularly hard – and just accepted a crate of shady looking droids with blasters to let them board a large ship on a major Core traderoute thinking they’d just intimidate somebody and cause a bit of havoc? Actually, now that she thought about it, that _did_ fit with Homura’s impression of Kyouko’s character. She never thought more than half a step ahead, if that.

Yuma was looking down at her feet now. “I-I just thought they looked cool. And when I talked with one, they had such a strange humor.”

With a weird half-laugh, half-choke, Tomoe stood up again.

“You know what? Just let them go. When will our systems be online again?”

Homura looked at the senator dumbfounded. And Miki _definitely_ wasn’t having it.

“WHAT?! Let them go?! Mami, they just admitted to being part of an _assassination plot_ against you-!”

Tomoe interrupted her security chief’s tirade: “Sayaka, let it be. I don’t think they’re lying and I refuse to believe that Master Akemi would be acquainted with actual cold-blooded assassins. This could’ve gone very badly, but all’s well that ends well, I guess. We won’t gain anything by throwing them before the hounds back on Alderaan. Honestly, I just wanna go home now.”

Homura didn’t have the heart to tell the senator that her own choice of acquaintances could best be described as _lacking_ , historically speaking. But if she wanted to believe that Homura’s judgement of characters was sufficient to let those two philistines go, who was Homura to doubt her? It wasn’t like Kyouko’s lying wasn’t just as bad as her planning, so Tomoe’s assessment of the situation was likely spot on.

Closing her eyes, Miki seemed to have to come to terms with the senator’s decision. That was fast. Experience, Homura presumed.

“10 minutes, max.”

“Thank you.”

Tomoe turned to Homura.

“I release these two into your custody, Master Jedi. Take them and their vessel back to Coruscant, I reckon. You don’t need to finish this journey with us. The danger has passed. I don’t know how I know, but I’m sure of it. I’ll need to make arrangements for dealing with V’riil and this sadly means I’ll not have time for any … distractions.”

Now, usually Homura wouldn’t argue about seeing Madoka again earlier than planned, but this had been a few strange hours, so she had to make sure.

“This is … a highly irregular request. Are you sure this is how you want to proceed?”

She’d probably get shit from the council if she didn’t make sure. Hell, she’d get shit from the council either way.

“I’m really not accustomed to have my decisions questioned this much. But yes, I am sure.”

Homura doubted that. From what she remembered, Alderaan operated under some kind of feudal-egalitarian nobility system, whatever that really meant in practice. But the Republic was a democracy after all, so even if Tomoe turned out to be some kind of royalty on her homeworld, she’d have a lot of experience of her decisions being questioned by the media or her colleagues.

With another thin smile and a wink at Homura, Tomoe turned around, striding out of the airlock, clearly assuming the matter finally closed.

“If you say so.”

Homura, for a change, couldn’t help herself.

“And Senator!”

Tomoe stopped, but didn’t turn back.

“May the Force be with you.”

At this, Tomoe turned around halfway, another mischievous smile on her lips. Miki did not wait, but marched past her, her nose up in the air, her troops behind her.

“And with you, Master Jedi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit rushed, but I couldn't get the ending to come out any other way, so y'all gotta deal with it. The last chapter should provide a bit more closure and then we're done with this little plot bunny. I edited/rewrote a lot before posting, so Chapter 5 might take a little while as well.


	5. Chapter 5

With the children safely tucked away … somewhere … in the belly of the ship, Homura was staring at the nav console from her co-pilot seat to the right of Kyouko, who was surprisingly alert while going through some kind of checklist. Homura continued staring. Some more staring at the rune-like engravings on some of the knobs and buttons the console consisted of. It was Aurebesh alright, but seemed kind of … archaic.

“Kyouko. Just how ancient is this thing?”

Kyouko looked at her.

“No more ‘Sakura’ now that we’re alone, huh, _Homura_? Almost thought you were serious about the whole treason and piracy things before, but good to know you still love me.”

Somewhat exasperated, Homura did not deign Kyouko’s needling deserving of an answer, just pointing even more, um, pointedly at the console.

“Ehh, it mighta seen better days, but she’s still running, ain’t she. These old Firefly classes can take a lot.”

Now, Homura wasn’t a ship freak. Or a tech freak in general. Her current saber hardly shorted out anymore like her first creation had, but she knew intimately not to touch anything and let an astromech take care of things while in the Black.

But even _she_ had heard of the Fireflies. A class of spacecraft which later turned out to be aptly named because they tended to _burn up on re-entry_. Production had ended … five, six hundred Coruscanti standard orbitals ago.

“You’re flying around in a 600 year old ship?!”

“Like. I. Said. She can take a lot. Think I gotta update the nav software soon-ish though.”

“I don’t even _know_ the hyperspace routes that are on here! They’re named the same, but they _look_ markedly different. Don’t you have to update these maps once every twenty years at the minimum? This thing is running …”

She tried pushing a few buttons. It did nothing. Homura kicked the nav console. It stuttered for a moment before the screen blacked out.

“Did you just fucking break my ship?!”

Kyouko stared at her, honestly looking a little betrayed. Yes, they hadn’t seen each other in nearly two years, but surely Kyouko hadn’t forgotten about Homura’s luck with, well anything, but tech in particular. She’d assumed that the smuggler/recently turned space pirate had only seated her here to get a chance to talk, not to actually help fly the ship!

Luckily – and kind of uncharacteristically for Homura – the screen came back up after a few stutters. Down there, in the lower right corner: Version 0.3beta. Fondor Shipyards. Year 384 of the second dynasty.

“… I don’t think it’s a good sign that this is saying it’s running a beta version and I don’t know when the second Tapani dynasty was in place but aren’t we in the fourth right now?!”

“Now c’mooon. Don’t stress it. You just need to shift around some parameters until it’s roughly in line with the routes on this datapad. Done it a million times already, still in one piece.”

Kyouko hat produced said datapad from who knows where, clearly oblivious to Homura teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown. With a sigh, she took it. Seeing as the ports were clearly incompatible, she continued to enter the corrections manually.

“For how long have you had this garbage bin?”

Proudly, Kyouko patted her side of the cockpit. A knob fell off from the taccomp.

“About a year now. The Hellfire didn’t quite make the landing at Arda after a daring escape from Elom. But as you can see, everybody important survived.”

The Hellfire had been an old ship as well, but still in good shape and _much_ younger than this dura-bucket nonetheless. It had been the last ship of Kyouko’s she’d flown with. And it had already been a year since it had been destroyed. How time flew.

Homura was wrenched out of her musings by Kyouko’s gleeful exclamation: “Well, I guess this is all we can do for now. Hit it!”

Kyouko obviously hit “it” – that is, the correct lever – herself. Praying to her Madoka that they’d come out in one piece on the other side, Kyouko’s ship launched itself into hyperspace with a groan.

* * *

“What do you mean, you can’t get us closer? The capital is right there.”

Homura vaguely gestured out the window on the small bridge of Kyouko’s ship, Coruscant clearly visible in the distance. She’d only just calmed down from the last jump, each time expecting to be vaporized by getting too close to a gravity well not on the ancient maps at any moment. Kyouko had been surreptitiously quiet the whole time. Maybe she, too, didn’t entirely trust this antique?

Coming in sub-light from out here would take them almost as much time to the Temple docks as the four jumps they’d just survived.

“So, funny story there, it might involve some gizkas, and, like, we were IDed and I haven’t really had the disposable income to get a new ID until now … so, if I go any closer, I’m pretty sure there might be some uncomfortable questions, you see.”

“And what were you expecting us to do now? Give us each a suit and eject us in the vague direction of the sixth planet to the right in the hopes we’d either make it or get picked up on the way?”

Kyouko rubbed the back of her head, grinning like the hoodlum that she was.

“I didn’t actually think that far ahead, to be honest. Can’t you do some magic so we’re not noticed or something?”

Homura massaged the bridge of her nose before pulling out her emergency codes.

“Use those and just drop us off right at the Temple, okay?”

“Woah, neat! _That’s_ my kinda magic! Can I hold onto these?”

“You can use them to bring us in and get away. Once.”

“Bugger.”

Homura was quiet for a moment. It hadn’t taken them long to make the trip back after Senator Tomoe had so graciously released Kyouko and Yuma into Homura’s custody. And she would just let them go immediately, likely to do whatever illegal activities interested them most. She _had_ to get this over with soon and this was the hook she’d been waiting for.

“Will you be able to afford a new comm unit soon?”

As expected, Kyouko immediately went defensive: “Actually, we’re swimming in cash right now, because of, err, the job with the droids, you know.”

That actually sounded kind of correct. They’d better have taken a lot of money for a job forcing them to become _space pirates on the Perlemian_. Madoka, it would take Homura a while to get over this.

“Ok, I believe you.”

“I don’t really care either way.”

“I’m just saying, you know. When it gets too hard, especially with a child, you know how to reach me. You’ve never given me a call, not even to tell me about Yuma.”

“I forgot. I lost my comm. I-I don’t need to tell you anything.”

“She reminds me of Momo.”

“Shut up.”

Kyouko had loaded up Homura’s emergency codes and was slowly making her way further into the system using her (really old and thus really slow) sub-light engines. She’d probably done most of her approaches like this. It was standard procedure amongst the more … unsavory elements out there after all to drop out of hyperspace much farther out than an official Republican ship among the major trade routes usually would.

“She’s well. She’s Madoka’s padawan, actually. Soon she’ll go through The Trials. _You_ wanted us to take her, then.”

Kyouko continued to stare out into the Black, even though the navcomp was bringing them in smoothly so far. Her presence in the Force being as strong as it always was, her whirlwind of emotions unmistakable. She’d always been strong like that, stronger than Homura by a fair margin. Although that wasn’t a good measurement of anything, really. Homura made up for her lack of power through finesse and experience, mostly, but in a contest of pure strength she would probably lose against most padawans at the Temple. But this wasn’t the time to think about stuff like that.

Instead, she looked away for a moment so Kyouko could dry her eyes with her sleeve, before attempting a topic change.

“What about that Tatsuya, huh? Don’t think I didn’t catch his last name. He’s related to Madoka, isn’t he. Don’t tell me you’ve sprung for a clone child.”

“What?! No! He’s her younger brother. Yuma is currently showing him her … workbench?”

“Yeah, she’s into tech, y’know. Not really droids and stuff, but like, she fixes things around the ship. She even invents machinery. Real bright, she is.”

Tatsuya had had a much better time with her than he would’ve had up here with his master over the course of this trip then. Leaning back, Homura pulled her robes tighter around herself. Was it just her or was sub-light flight actually subtly cooler than when the hyperdrive was working at full capacity?

“How did you come to travel together?”

“Doesn’t matter, just another sob story from the rim.”

It was weird how most people in the Core had to turn to holo dramas nowadays to get their share of sob stories. The life out there didn’t need them, surely.

“Not very forthcoming today, are we?”

“What the fuck do you want from me, Akemi?”

Homura was quiet for a moment.

“I honestly don’t know. I just thought like, we’d just pick off from last time?”

Did she almost sound hopeful there? Real friends were few and far between in this rotten galaxy and Homura had never intended their last meeting to end the way it did. And she’d certainly not expected somebody like Kyouko to stay miffed at her for so long. After all, it was basically _her_ fault that Kyouko hadn’t talked to her own sister for two whole years.

“You’re full of shit, Akemi.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Kyouko was staring at her now.

“How would you take _that_ as compliment?”

“It’s a big galaxy out there. I’m sure there’s a language or culture where that could be interpreted as a compliment.”

“Didn’t mean it as a compliment, that’s for sure.”

“Love you, too.”

Was there the hint of a blush on Kyouko’s cheeks? There definitely was on Homura’s, prompting her to avert her head yet again.

“How come you’re so different every single time we meet? I never know what to expect.”

“I guess I did some growing up. There might’ve been no alternative, but that didn’t make it okay. I should not have made Momo take my side.”

“Homura, we’re fucking _old_. We’re not doing any ‘growing up’ anymore.”

Kyouko was obviously thinking about saying something else and apparently couldn’t resist.

“Also like, you’re always going to stay the same midget you were at fourteen. _Yuma_ is taller than you.”

“That was uncalled for.”

“Argh, fuck it all. I forgive you, okay. I guess I might’ve also done some growing up.”

“So, we’re good again?”

“Yeah, whatever. Shut up now, though, for real. Traffic in the Core is hell on a good day.”

“No argument there.”

Soon, but not soon enough, never soon enough, they were approaching a bay at the Temple. Kyouko’s ship would _just_ fit, it looked like. Homura could see three small figures waiting on the platform as well. It was unmistakable who they were. That giant, pink flame in the middle was obviously Madoka. Her light. Her life! Homura had been able to sense her even from the other side of the planet. Whenever the council considered those stricter anti-attachment policies they’d debated for a while now, they’d probably been thinking of Homura. She could see how one could come to the conclusion that if anything happened to Madoka, she’d probably try to kill everybody in the galaxy and then herself and that this was an approach the council would frown upon.

Homura didn’t know what their problem was. _Obviously_ she would go straight to killing herself in that case! She really shouldn’t be thinking about stuff like this now, especially with how the thought alone was enough to make her vaguely ill. There were more people waiting, after all.

Like the far smaller, red aura not too dissimilar from the one sitting beside Homura in the cockpit just as unmistakably belonging to Momo Sakura, Madoka’s padawan.

And lastly, the earthen feel on Madoka’s other side had to be Master Mun. He actually made the most sense as a welcome committee, given that they’d used Homura’s emergency codes to guide a vessel implicated in illegal activities through the capital’s security apparatus.

Soon enough, they did manage to touch down smoothly. Homura was impressed. And slightly relieved to not be burning trash falling from the sky.

“Why can’t you always fly like that?” came Yuma’s voice from the freighter’s back. So Homura seemed to be not entirely alone with her thoughts.

“It’s harder when bits are falling off or when we’re under fire!” Kyouko shouted back.

Homura rose from her seat, inspecting her robes, while Kyouko was going through her post-landing checklist. After a few moments Kyouko looked up at the waiting figure.

“What are you waiting for?”

“You? You’re not coming?”

“I’m an outsider, I can’t just go into the Jedi Temple. Obviously?” Kyouko actually didn’t sound too sure at that.

“What did you think I was talking about back there then?! We’re right at the visitor’s deck and even if we weren’t, I’ve never _actually_ given a damn who I brought in. Don’t you want to meet somebody out there?”

“Why would I want to meet some old council member or something? They’ll probably try to throw me in jail no matter what you tell them.”

“Trust me, the council member is there for me. Now be a good girl and jump over your shadow.”

Homura wouldn’t force her to meet Momo, of course. But she could be pesky when she wanted to.

More noises were coming from the ramp.

“Kyouko! There are actual Jedi out there! Not like this Jedi student. Or whatever the hell this Akemi person is supposed to be.”

Tatsuya, waiting for his master at the living area next to the cockpit, didn’t react to the needling at all. Homura resolved to make him cringe at least once more before the day was over.

She really had enough now, though, and wasn’t quite able to hide her excitement of seeing Madoka so soon again. When she walked out of the cockpit she could sense Kyouko hesitating just a moment longer before joining her on her way to the ramp.

“I’m actually a master, young one.” Homura couldn’t help being a bit self-important while walking down the open airlock after Yuma.

“We are all but learners in the end, Master Akemi.”

“But of course, Master Mun.”

Their rather pitiful looking troupe had finally gathered at the bottom of the ramp. Yuma’s and Kyouko’s clothes did just scream Outer Rim bounty hunters, Homura’s own robes hadn’t survived her altercation with the assassination droids without a few blaster holes and Tatsuya … well, Tatsuya looked the very image of a dedicated Jedi learner. Like always. The prick.

_You wound me, Master!_

_Let’s go to the training halls later tonight and I’ll show you what it would look like if I wounded you!_

_I actually have other plans tonight and I believe so do you …_

_You’re too observant for your own good._

Master Mun, of course, wasn’t having it.

“If you two are quite finished? I presume there’s a reason you came back on an unidentified freighter today instead of the regular shuttle from Alderaan in two days time?”

Homura actually hadn’t thought about what she’d tell the council yet.

“Haha, yeah, that’s kind of a long story, actually. All issues have been resolved, though. I think a debriefing tomorrow should suffice?”

Master Mun blustered himself up a bit.

“Whether a debriefing is necessary immediately is for the council to de-”

“Master Mun? We all know how Homura solves problems. I dare say a debriefing tomorrow is all we can reasonably expect at this point.”

With another long sigh at hearing that voice – Homura had to hold back mirroring him there, albeit for other, more dreamy reasons – Moon turned around with a swish of his robes.

“Of course you’re right, Master Kaname. The Temple welcomes you back, Master Akemi and Padawan Kaname. May the Force be with you.”

Homura couldn’t help dumbly smiling at Madoka, entirely foregoing returning the traditional greeting at the retreating back of the council member.

“How do you deal with them like that?”

“I can still hear you, you know”, the old twi-lek yelled from his position further down the path into the Temple.

“We’ll be quieter then!” Homura couldn’t help herself, _again_. With a small harrumph, Mun slid through the door which closed soon after him.

“Sis? Is it really you?”

Momo had been staring wide-eyed at the other red-head on the platform since they’d left the spacecraft and had apparently finally found the courage to call out to Kyouko.

“Momo! Um … yeah, it’s me. Haha! Errm. You know. Your sister. Kyouko. Waa-”

Momo had just thrown herself at her sister in a full-on glomb. Meanwhile, Madoka’s arm had sneaked around Homura’s midriff, who for a moment lost herself in that wonderful warmth. “I think we should let those three have a moment to themselves, don’t you?”

“You’re probably right.”

Sadly, Madoka had given up her half-hug again once they started walking away, so, in essence, far too soon. Tatsuya had been following them towards the Temple door.

“Ah, yes, like I said, you’re having the rest of the day off. I, uh, am gonna have a dat-, I mean, a private debriefing with Master Kaname, you see.”

Tatsuya didn’t even raise an eyebrow. What marvelous self-control he was developing!

“Of course, Master. We’ll see each other later, then. May the Force be with you.”

“And with you.”

A small chuckle escaped Homura’s throat when she said it in unison with Madoka. There might be much longer missions in the future, but if there was one thing Homura was in agreement with considering the Living Force, it was to believe in the Here And Now.

And this very moment was already was already so much better than she could’ve expected this morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter fought me through the whole editing process and ngl ... it kinda won there, in the end. Still not entirely satisfied with it, obviously, but y'all've waited long enough given that I teased this thing with "ohoho I've got it all written already" and then vanished for two weeks. (Granted, work was hell last week so I didn't get anything done until now.)
> 
> As you might've noticed, I added this story to a series, because I already have an idea and a page of ill-conceived ideas for further works in this universe. I don't promise anything! But a Homura backstory and the briefly addressed noodle incident between Homu and Kyouko are at the top of the list so far. Maybe some longer fluff pieces of Temple life as well. We'll see.
> 
> Enough with the teasers though, so, thanks for coming along for this short ride. Hope you liked it! Toodles.


End file.
